Page 23 of Destined to be a Duchess
From a distance, Marianne estimated that he was young, maybe a few years older than Anthony, who was twenty-five. Sporting a brown travelling jacket and a stiff eggshell cravat, he looked every part the handsome dandy that the magazines back in London often featured in their illustrations.
A woman was sitting opposite Catherine. Unlike the gentleman, she leaned forward with an inquisitive, warm manner. Her hair and complexion were much fairer than the gentleman’s colouring, long tresses spun into an exquisite chignon at the crown of her head. Her features were angular and refined, perfectly complemented by her white day gown.
“Marianne. He found you,” Catherine said, rising out of her seat. She pressed her hands against her abdomen, looking nervousfor the first time since Marianne had met her. “Pray, come in quickly. There is much that we must discuss.”
The strangers stood in turn—the woman moving more energetically than the male. When Marianne hesitated, she felt Anthony shift his weight behind her, wordlessly encouraging her inside.
He locked eyes with her and led her to their seats, sitting beside her. His presence was an immediate comfort, but Marianne still felt sick with nerves at the sight of the two strangers. They were the firsttonmembers she would meet outside of the Colline family, and she didn’t even know who they were.
“This is Gideon Manners, the Earl of Foxburn,” Catherine introduced formally, gesturing towards the gentleman. “And this is his sister, Miss Lavinia Manners.” She paused, turning towards Marianne. “Allow me to introduce Lady Marianne Chambers.”
I suppose that answers that question,Marianne thought, gaping at her long-lost cousins.
“So we’ve been told,” Lord Foxburn replied, not missing a beat. He fixed Marianne with a merciless look, obviously trying to determine whether she was who she claimed to be. “When I received Her Grace’s letter, I decided to come as quickly as I could. I do not habitually call upon others unannounced, so you will have to pardon my impudence on this occasion.”
“All is forgiven,” Catherine replied, though Marianne had a sneaking suspicion she had not taken kindly to the interruption that afternoon. “These are highly irregular circumstances. One can completely understand the necessity of foregoing good manners at such a time.”
“I so wondered what you would look like …” Miss Manners murmured, narrowing her gaze at Marianne. She conducted a brief inspection, her eyes widening as she turned to her brother. “Isn’t she just the picture of her father, Gideon?”
Lord Foxburn said nothing in response.
“Did you know my father?” Marianne asked to fill the silence. She fisted the fabric of her skirts in her hands, trying to steady her breathing. Her curiosity triumphed over her fear. “You can imagine how curious I am about him, all things considered.”
“Sadly, we didn’t know him at all,” Miss Manners replied. She averted her eyes to the ground, sounding apologetic. “We have a portrait gallery at home, featuring many of the earls who came before Gideon.
There is a painting of Nicholas Chambers and his father among them. According to the date, it was commissioned for Nicholas’ twentieth birthday.” She raised her gaze back up at Marianne. “I suspected I would know the moment I looked at you whetheryou were telling the truth. Your eyes look like they’ve been plucked directly from that painting. It really is incredible …”
“Or it is simply a coincidence,” Lord Foxburn interjected. He sighed and straightened in his seat. “Forgive me for being the voice of reason, but you must understand that I cannot accept these lavish claims without definite proof of your birth.
It is not my desire to antagonize you—any of you—by requesting some sort of evidence to back up these stories. As far as I was aware, Lord Foxburn’s line ended with his only son, and Nicholas had no children. That is how I came into the title. The late Earl of Foxburn’s brother was my grandfather. My mother was Nicholas Chambers’ cousin.”
Marianne tried to imagine the complicated family tree in her mind. More dead relatives were appearing by the minute, and she couldn’t help feeling cheated out of a family she had never known.
She would not allow the current Lord Foxburn to prevent her from meeting those who remained. Her nerves subsided slowly, replaced by a desire to regain what was rightfully hers.
“I will not pretend to understand much about heirs and titles,” Marianne said, leaning forward to ensure Lord Foxburn heard her. “I imagine Her Grace has explained some of my situation to you. Until last week, I had no idea that any of you existed—and I certainly had no desire to try and usurp the Foxburn title.From what I gather, nothing substantial will be gained from my coming forward, regardless. My father left nothing to me upon his death. I have no claim to the properties and titles that have become yours.
By revealing myself to be a Chambers, I am exposing myself to more danger than if I had remained a seamstress in London. Why would I bother subjecting myself to theton’sscrutiny, potentially making a pariah of myself, for such little reward, if I were not telling the truth?”
She glanced up at Catherine, catching her breath. The duchess watched her proudly, nodding in agreement. Anthony shifted beside her, making her skin tingle. Marianne observed Lord Foxburn and his sister carefully for their reactions now that the duke wanted to speak.
“Lady Marianne is right,” Anthony said. The sound of his voice was an immediate relief. “When she arrived here upon the invitation of Her Grace, I had similar doubts. In the short time she has been here, Lady Marianne has proved herself to be one of the most honest, principled individuals I have ever met.
If our support of her is not sufficient to prove to you that sheisthe legitimate daughter of Nicholas Chambers, I can assure you we will work tirelessly to provide you with enough evidence to ensconce you in an office with your solicitor for weeks.”
Marianne had no idea that he thought so highly of her. There was a chance that he was just saying all this to defend his own honour. His voice commanded respect. And in all the time Marianne had been hosted at Moorhaven Manor, Anthony had never spoken to her like she was not worth his esteem.
Not like he was speaking to Lord Foxburn now. A threat was hidden behind his words, and Marianne knew just enough about thetonto understand. If Lord Foxburn denied Marianne as his relative, he would be denouncing Anthony and his mother—a duke and duchess in mourning, no less—as liars.
Lord Foxburn smiled mirthlessly, returning his hand to his mouth and looking towards his sister. Something passed between them, though Marianne couldn’t tell what, leaving the rest of them waiting as they deliberated what to do with the news.
“You mentioned letters,” Lord Foxburn said at last. “I would like to see them, Your Grace.”
Marianne sagged in relief, holding back a victorious smile as Catherine ordered one of the maids to collect her mother’s letters from Catherine’s solar. The maid returned within minutes, and the stack of letters were soon exchanged. They ended up in the hands of Lord Foxburn. Licking his thumb, he unfolded the first note and began reading with his brows knit in concentration.
“The letters are organized chronologically,” Catherine explained, regaining her seat beside Miss Manners. “At the top of the pile are letters sent to me from Nicholas. They should detail the beginning of his infatuation with Anne Buller—though I suppose we really should be calling her Mrs Chambers.”
She leaned over to flick through the pile, visibly setting Lord Foxburn’s teeth on edge. “At the bottom of the pile, you will find letters sent to me from Anne herself. These chronicle Nicholas’ death, the life she led after him, and most notably, the birth and upbringing of their only child, Marianne.”
